Page 100 of The Scarred Duke's Bride

It was a night worth remembering for Eric if only for one thing— this was their first party hosted as a married couple. Of course, the low-level niggling worry for Freya never really went away, but her color was high, and her eyes were bright as she spoke to her mother’s relatives, and that was all he could ask for.

He did his best to entertain the other guests, gratified that two members of his platoon who were home from leave had made the journey all the way from London to attend. They regaled him with stories— only the happy ones— of their last mission, and he in turn told them of all his failings as a new duke.

“It is not all sitting around smoking cheroots and drinking brandy you know,” he pointed out.

Then the bell rang, and it was time to take their seats. Eric sought Freya out. She was still sitting obediently on her day bed, surrounded by her mother’s cousins as well as his mother. He took a seat with his friends and waited for the show to begin.

Isabella and William had turned Dracula from a drama into a comedy with outlandish movement and over-the-top dialogue. Eric could see Freya from his seat, and she was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down her face. All he could do was smile as he watched her more than he watched the play.

He realized that not once during the evening had he given one thought to his scar.

Once the play was done, Eric put his foot down and carried Freya up to bed in his arms as the rest of the guests broke up into small groups talking and laughing. She put her head contentedly on his shoulder.

“I quite enjoyed that. Thank you so much for arranging it.”

He tightened his hold on her. “Anything for you my dear.”

The End?